Page 53 of The Billionaire's Promise

"Like I said, I'm trying to simplify things." She took a step to the side herself and laid her palms on my chest, smoothing them up to grip my shoulders, trying to pull me down for a kiss. Not going to happen.

"You think fucking me would simplify things? You're insane."

I grabbed her wrists and peeled her hands off my shoulders, trying to push her back. For someone so skinny, she was strong.

Sloane was shorter than me, the top of her head barely reaching my chin, but she planted her toes on the top of my foot and lunged up, pressing her mouth to mine.

That was it. I was trying to be careful, hadn't wanted to hurt her, but I was done. Fucking done. I pushed her back and stepped away, putting the island between us while she got her balance on her spike heels.

"What?" she said, her over-plucked eyebrows raised in surprise.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" At that moment, I was kind of thinking that she was. As if she were a rabid animal who might lunge at any moment, I took another step back.

"It never seemed worth jeopardizing our working arrangement, but I've always wanted you. I thought if you were willing to lower yourself to fuck Maggie Henry, you probably weren't that worried about mixing sex and business, so I thought I'd take a shot."

"You're. Fucking. Fired," I said.

Few words had ever given me such satisfaction. I'd stayed with Sloane out of apathy. She was a bitch, but she was good at her job. Finding another manager and gallery would be a pain in the ass, but she'd gone way too far.

"What?" she screeched. "You can't fire me. We have a contract."

She was right, we did have a contract. Fortunately for me, I knew the terms of that contract in detail.

"You can expect a letter from me detailing the severance of our business relationship per the terms of the contract," I said. "Thirty days from receipt of that letter, we will no longer have a business relationship. Whatever doesn't sell at the show on Friday, you have those thirty days to sell, and then I'll take the work back."

"Vance, don't overreact. I'm sorry if I was out of line." Sloane took a few hesitant steps toward me, but the look on my face must've stopped her, because she met my eyes and ground to a halt.

"You were way more than out of line, Sloane. I'm done with the way you talk about Magnolia, I'm done with the way you talk about my daughter, and I'm done with your attitude. We'll get through the show together, and then I don't want to see you again. Do you understand?"

She shook her head, dismissing me. "Once you calm down, Vance, you'll change your mind. I won't even hold it against you. I understand you've been under a lot of pressure. We'll just forget we had this conversation."

Not meeting my eyes, she walked around the other side of the island and headed for the door. I let her go without comment.

I wasn't going to change my mind. The hassle of finding a new agent seemed so much less important than never having to see Sloane again. I pulled up the number of a courier service I'd used a few times and requested that someone come by immediately to pick up and deliver a letter.

Once that was arranged, I headed straight for my laptop and the printer. I wasn't going to waste any time getting out the letter severing our business relationship. The show was in two days, and I knew well enough that I was going to get distracted. I wanted Sloane taken care of before she could cause any more trouble.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MAGNOLIA

"You okay, Babe?" Vance asked, shooting me a look when we pulled up to a stop sign.

"Just tired," I lied. It wasn't completely a lie. Iwastired. Rosie wanted her formula every few hours, never mind if it was the middle of the night. We switched off night-time feedings, but it was still exhausting. I liked my sleep, preferably a solid eight hours of it. At this point, eight hours of uninterrupted sleep was a distant memory. Lack of sleep wasn't why I was so quiet. It was the phone calls.

First, Brayden's. Six of them, each with increasingly desperate messages. He needed to talk to me, wanted to meet, didn't understand why I was ignoring him. I didn't pick up. I should have erased the messages without listening.

Brayden’s calls weren't as bad as the one from Sloane. That one, I did answer. I had to. We had a show in two days, and I still had a job to do.

I knew she was just causing trouble, and I knew she was a bitch. That didn't make it any easier to hear her shrill voice telling me about her 'intimate tête-à-tête' with Vance. I didn't believe for a second that he'd touched her, despite her insinuations. Vance didn't find Sloane attractive, a point he'd made clear more than once.

That didn’t mean I liked hearing her say, "I see why you fell for him, darling. His mouth is delicious."

It was, but there was no way Vance had kissed Sloane. No way. He wasn't a cheater.

But the other part? When she'd said, " I don't know how to tell you this, but I thought you should know. We were talking about things, and he said straight out, 'I'm not looking to be husband material. I'm still trying to figure out how to be a father. I've got enough going on without making it complicated.' His words exactly, Maggie. I just didn't want you to get your hopes up. You two work so well together, and I know how mixing sex with business can lead to disappointments."

There had been catty triumph in her voice, which was—oddly enough—the reason I believed she'd quoted him accurately. When she talked about his mouth, her voice had been high-pitched, with a barely discernible thread of anxiety. But when she quoted him, she sounded nothing but smug.